


Down the Chimney

by firefliesinlove



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: A bit of BAMF Stiles, Alpha Derek, Christmas, Fluff, M/M, Mentions of The Kanima, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-18
Updated: 2012-12-18
Packaged: 2017-11-21 12:03:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/597537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firefliesinlove/pseuds/firefliesinlove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles just wanted to be alone on Christmas Eve. Enter Derek... but not through the bedroom window!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Down the Chimney

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LexDov](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=LexDov).



Christmas Eve in Beacon Hills was always a quiet time of the year. Shops and most restaurants were closed for the holidays and residents were at home with their loved ones. Houses were adorned for the season in various shades of red and green decorations and their roofs framed with lights in assorted colours. There was a chill in the air. Snow was a rare thing for the town: winter often came and went without so much as a snowflake falling from the sky. This year was no different.

A festive wreath with a large red bow hung on the door to the Stilinski house. The decorating of their house bad been a long standing tradition and one that Mrs. Stilinski had enjoyed thoroughly. Since the death of his mother, Stiles had been in charge of decorating the house. His dad always promised to help and put up lights outside but with his demanding job and long hours it never happened and Stiles wasn’t disappointed. He was relieved. It was better that way. His dad would just end up with that look in his eyes like when his mom was in the hospital; like she was dying all over again. Stiles preferred it when his dad would smile and so he had enlisted Scott’s help to put up the decorations on the day before the winter solstice.

The night before Christmas Stiles was at home alone. Sherriff Stilinski was busy ensuring the safety of the town and had assured him that he would be home in the early hours of Christmas Day. Scott and his mother had offered to host him for the evening but Stiles just wanted to be by himself for a night. He was all for the Christmas cheer but it didn’t hold the same meaning that it did when he was younger. Above all he wanted some time alone before the holidays were over and he went back to school and to face the reality of teenage werewolves, alpha packs, kanima and whatever else lurked around the corner. Probably Derek.

Derek was something else entirely. An alpha werewolf and a master creeper wrapped up nicely in a handsomely strong physique. Not that Stiles had spent much time paying attention. Though he could distinctly recall how Derek’s muscles had felt through a chlorine-soaked shirt the night he had fought to keep them both alive. It was a night he tried not to remember but visions of the kanima often fuelled his nightmares.

Stiles sat in the dark in front of his computer in his bedroom, seemingly mesmerized by the content on the screen. His lips were parted slightly. He had on navy blue and white plaid pajama pants and an unzipped red hoodie over his loose grey t-shirt.

At a quarter to midnight Stiles resolved to tear himself away from his laptop and the decidedly not Christmas-themed research on eclipses, alphas and werewolf behaviours. His stomach rumbled loudly.

On his way to the kitchen Stiles paused in the living room. There was a soft glow that came from a string of white lights that were wrapped carefully around a small artificial Christmas tree. Different ornaments hung from the branches. On the top of the tree was an angel: the one his mother had made the year he was born. He smiled. A pile of wrapped presents were scattered on top of the red tree skirt.

Propped up against the painted white brick fireplace were two stockings bursting with Christmas goodies. Pine garland rested on the top of the fireplace and dangled over the edges. The fireplace had never been used and Stiles was almost certain that it was blocked off to keep the cold from seeping in.

Opposite the fireplace sat a beige couch on top of which was a red crocheted blanket. The blanket had been a gift for his birthday from Mrs. McCall the year Scott and he had become friends.

He moved into the kitchen and passed underneath a piece of mistletoe that was suspended from a hook on the doorframe between the two rooms. He had joked to his father about inviting Lydia over some time to make use of it but deep down he knew his heart had no intention of fighting for Lydia anymore. She was a good friend and an amazing fighter when it came to the supernatural but that was all. His heart desired another.

He went directly to the fridge. It was no secret to anyone who knew him that Stiles enjoyed his snacks at odd times of the day. He tried to be healthy for the sake of his dad but sometimes when he was alone he needed his delicious comfort foods.

He reached into the very back of the fridge, pulled out a half-eaten chocolate bar and closed the refrigerator door. As he leaned his back against the cool surface of the appliance he took a bite of the chocolate and closed his eyes. “ _So_ freaking good.”

He wondered if Derek liked chocolate. He had never seen him eat a thing and that made him nervous. He joked about Derek eating dead animals or raw meat but he sincerely hoped that he did neither. Stiles contemplated the heightened senses of being a werewolf making the chocolate experience similar to an orgasm. He briefly imagined Derek lazily sliding a square of chocolate between his lips.

Just then a loud crash and muffled voice tore Stiles from his sugar-induced reverie. He froze with the chocolate bar half in his mouth. As he tip-toed over to a drawer he bit off another piece of chocolate and shoved the rest into the pocket of his sweater. He pulled open the drawer and grabbed the first heavy thing he could see: a rolling pin. He then lifted it up and squinted into the darkness. If burglars were there then they wouldn’t be getting off easy.

Stiles moved quietly from the kitchen into the living room, the rolling pin always at the ready.

“Ow.” A quiet, bodiless voice startled him.

“Halt!” Stiles brandished the rolling pin in front of him as thought it were a sword. “Whoever’s there…? I’m- I’m armed!”

There was a quick movement by the fireplace and suddenly a tall man-shaped shadow loomed over him.

“ _Stilinski._ ” Huffed out a familiar voice. “What do you think a _rolling pin_ could possibly do to a _werewolf_?”

“... _Derek?_ Dude… What the hell?” Stiles stumbled backwards and felt blindly at the wall until he flicked on the light switch all the while the baking utensil still aimed at the late-night intruder. “Holy shit, what did you _do_?”

The bottom half of the once completely white fireplace was covered in black soot and pieces of wood and metal debris.

“You weren’t in your bedroom.” Derek cleared his throat. “You mentioned that I came in through the window too often.”

“So you, what… Came down the _chimney?_ Like freaking _Santa Claus_?” Stiles was joking but the look on Derek’s face made his blood run cold. “You have _got_ to be kidding.”

“There was a blockage.”

“A…” Stiles took a deep breath. “Blockage… Right… Yeah. Because nobody is allowed to just seal off their chimney in this day and age.” He held up his free hand, his fingers outstretched, and licked his lips. “And for the record… I could do a lot of things to a werewolf with a rolling pin. Things you- you probably can’t even _imagine_.”

“Stiles.” Derek caught his hand with his own and entwined their fingers.

“…What?” Stiles blinked hard and stared at their hands. Derek was all about the ‘no touching’ unless it involved some type of violence. But that had felt intimate. He swallowed hard and ignored the sudden spread of warmth in his cheeks.

“They’re worried about you.”

“Who’s ‘they’?”

“The pack. And Scott.” Derek tilted his head. “You haven’t been yourself recently.”

“Well the last time I checked my name was Stiles. I sure as heck _feel_ like Stiles.” He pulled his hand away and shoved it into his sweater’s pocket. “You don’t have to worry about me turning into some hormonal teenage monster from the black lagoon any time soon.”

“That’s not-” Derek started but closed his mouth and heaved a sighed. “You’ve been keeping to yourself lately.”

“Well. It’s… almost Christmas.” Stiles turned from Derek and stared beyond the kitchen. “If you didn’t notice the last time Christmas rolled around a lot of bad stuff was going on. Not a lot of time to relax and just… think, you know? …To spend time with family.”

“Pack is family. _Friends_ are family.” Derek stood as still as a statue.

“Yeah, well, my _dad_ is my family, Derek!” He swallowed at a lump in the back of his throat and took a step forward. “My mom. She was my family.”

After a moment Derek spoke. “Laura was mine.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean-” Stiles glanced back at Derek. He took a shaky breath and continued. “Sometimes I just need a bit of time away from everything. It’s a lot for a human like me.”

“If you could leave all of this… would you?”

“No. You can’t get rid of me that easily, wolfbreath.” Stiles laughed quietly and walked towards the kitchen. Derek growled under his breath. Without warning Stiles was flush against the doorframe and his eyes met a flash of red. His heart raced as the idea of just how close they were dawned on him. “See? You can’t even keep your claws off of me for two seconds.”

“I brush my teeth.” Derek said simply. His eyes faded back to a green-gray and his eyelids drifted shut. Before Stiles could speak Derek leaned over and captured his lips with his own. The rolling pin slipped from Stiles’s hand and clattered to the ground. As suddenly as it had happened it was over. Derek pulled back and stood up straight.

“What was that for?” He squeaked. If not for the hands that held him firmly in place Stiles knew he would have fallen to the floor. His legs were like jelly. “I-I believe you, man! You _definitely_ brush your teeth.”

“You taste like chocolate.” He whispered as though that was meant to explain the entire situation.

“I, uh… Chocolate bar… Night…” Stiles babbled. He tried his best not to re-visit the image of the werewolf, who now stood before him, enjoying some chocolate in a completely sexual manner. Derek stared intently at him for a moment before he gazed up at the almost forgotten mistletoe.

“It was Laura’s favourite Christmas tradition.” A smile tugged at the corners of Derek’s lips. “She would bring home her boyfriends and purposefully walk them under the mistletoe. Every year before the fire.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize.”

“Don’t be.” Derek switched his focus back to Stiles. “Those are the memories I want to hold onto: the good ones. You should do the same.”

“Can you… Let me go now?”

“Although you may need time away from us-” Derek stopped briefly to loosen his grip on Stiles’s sweater. “-the pack thrives on the scent and proximity of their fellow pack members.”

“So, what… You kiss me now, go back and make out to the rest of the _big bad_ _wolves?_ I’m not exactly ready to be apart of some furry orgy. Whether I’m directly involved or not.”

“That’s not how it works.” Derek frowned.

“Good... Because that would make for a _very_ awkward conversation with Scott.” Stiles stared down at the floor. “And I’m a one wolf kind of guy.”

“Stiles.” Derek’s voice was gentle and Stiles couldn’t help but to look up again.

“Yeah?”

“Werewolves mate for life.”

“Really?” Stiles perked up and his eyes widened. “Let me get my laptop or a pen or-”

“You don’t need to write this down. You have to listen, Stiles. This is important.”

“All the more reason to be writing it down!” He attempted to wriggle out of Derek’s grasp but failed.  
  
“Stiles. Just… Stiles, calm down.” Derek slid a hand behind his neck and pushed their foreheads together. “Take a deep breath and listen.”

And Stiles did. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He relished the warmth that emanated from Derek and wondered if maybe the pack mentality had somehow seeped into his brain as well. He could get used to being that close to Derek on a regular basis.

“If werewolves are lucky they bond with one other in their lifetime. They become pack and share that special connection until the day that one or both is dead.”

“So werewolves are monogamous too. That’s cool.” Stiles opened his eyes and bit his lip. “So, have you, uh…?”

“Yes.” Derek hesitated. Stiles felt his heart drop. “It was unexpected.”

“Who?”

“A member of the pack.”

“That’s, um.” Stiles’s breath hitched in the back of his throat. “Is it Erica? You didn’t seem all that interested in her before and she- Oh God, is it Scott? I mean. Good for you, man. But Scott will always be hung up on Allison. And isn’t he separate from the pack?”

“Stiles.” Derek pushed away but kept his hand on the back of Stiles’s neck. He shook his head. “It’s not Erica and definitely not Scott. Stiles… it’s _you_.”

“You did say a ‘member of the pack’ didn’t you? Like, another werewolf? And I’m pretty sure I’m not a werewolf. I’m just-”

“It’s uncommon but not impossible for a werewolf and a human to become mates.” Derek moved his hand from the back of his neck and rested it over Stiles’s heart. “I know you feel it. When we’re close I can hear the change in your heartbeat.”

“You sure that wasn’t fear you were listening to?”

“There is a noticeable difference between the two emotions.” Derek leaned in close, inhaled deeply and stood back. He looked calmly at Stiles. “You do not smell terrified at the moment.”

“Well I’m a teenager. I’m supposed to have feelings...” Stiles felt dizzy. His mind was in a whirl. “Are you sure about this?”

Derek nodded.  
  
“So. What do we do about it?”  
  
“I came here to give you a choice.” Derek let his hands glide off of Stiles, who leaned heavily against the wall. Derek sauntered over to the Christmas tree. With his back to Stiles he spoke again. “You don’t have to be apart of this.”

“Didn’t I already say you couldn’t get rid of me that easily?”

“You need to understand what all of this means.” Derek reached out to the tree and cupped a decoration in his hand.

“You only mate once, right? And for you it’s me. Is that it?” Stiles slowly made his way over to Derek, careful not to step on any debris from the chimney. His heart hammered in his chest and his legs trembled with each step. “It seems pretty simple to me.”

Derek let go of the decoration and turned around, his face unreadable. “I did this to you.”

“This doesn’t sound like a one-sided thing to me. Not if it’s something we both feel.” Stiles chuckled. “So, yeah, in a manner of speaking you did this to me. It’s your fault for being so damn attractive all the time.”

Derek blinked in silence.

“You’re supposed to say ‘Oh, Stiles, what a gorgeous body you have!’ and I would say ‘All the better to seduce you with!’.” Stiles smiled nervously at Derek. He played with the hem of his sweater. “I’ve never done this.”

“You don’t have to.” Derek sounded dejected.

“I _want_ to, which is what I’ve been trying to say without actually saying it.” He shifted his weight onto his left foot. “I want this. I want _you,_ Derek.” His cheeks were still stained a light pink. “That is… if you feel the same way.”

Derek smiled and Stiles felt his heart skip a beat. “I do.”

“Maybe we can keep this whole thing tame for a while. If the sheriff found out that his underage son was fooling around with... Well, I mean, if that’s even the direction you want this to head in.” Stiles bit the inside of his cheek and rubbed a hand over his short hair. “That’s cool if-”

“Yes.” Derek pressed a warm hand to his cheek. Stiles fell silent. “I want all of this. _Very_ much.”

“Boxing day.”

“You’ve lost me.” Derek pulled his hand back and Stiles whined at the loss of warmth.

“Boxing day at seven-thirty at night… If we’re going to do this then we’re going to do it right. I like movies and dinners out. I’m also partial to long walks on the beach but not usually when it’s so freaking cold out. So, try to plan something a little warmer.”

“Are you telling me to pick you up for a date?”

“Was that not clear?” Stiles eyed Derek with a smirk. “…How hard did you fall down that chimney?"

“I didn’t fall. I jumped.” Derek snorted.

“Sure you did.” Stiles held his hand up in front of Derek’s face. “How many fingers am I holding up?”

Derek let out a playful growl and batted his hand away.

“How about you try the front door next time?”

“Tomorrow.”

“Hmm?”

“I’ll be here at half past seven tomorrow evening.” Derek pointed at a clock on the wall opposite the two and Stiles rewarded him with a lopsided smile. It was well past midnight on Christmas morning.

“Merry Christmas, Derek.”

Derek caught Stiles by the sleeve of his sweatshirt and pulled him into a gentle embrace. “Merry Christmas, Stiles.”

**Author's Note:**

> Just a quick Christmas fic for all of you (and especially my best friend LexDov). :-)


End file.
